


He is my AIR

by AllMonstersRHuman



Category: AIR 2015, Norman Reedus - Fandom
Genre: AIR 2015 - Freeform, Norman Reedus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMonstersRHuman/pseuds/AllMonstersRHuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Had this dream last night. Probably thanks to the damn Air trailer I re-watched for the 100th time before going to bed. And believe me, being stuck in a cryogenics tank is not fun. I’m surprised I didn’t wake up screaming from the claustrophobia alone. Here, have some AIR fanfiction. p.s. this may or may not get re-written as the start of a fic sometime in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He is my AIR

**Author's note:** _I changed a few things in the first person sequence and added more to make it into a first chapter for an actual fic. No guarantees when it will be continued._

 

__

 

I'm never really awake. But I'm never really sleeping either. Sometimes I can hear things. A rough voice. Another with a deep accent. Sometimes they cry. Sometimes I hear them arguing.

I want to know them. Speak with them. Move and laugh with them. But I can't. I lie here frozen. Waiting to bear the continuation of my race. By a man not of my choosing. Assigned like homework.

I see a face sometimes. Just barely through the fringe of my lashes. I must not have closed them completely before I was encased. I see how sad he looks. I only see him once every six months. Only for a few extra minutes.

Sometimes his face holds resentment. And I wish I could move mine to mimic his. Why us? Why not him? What makes us so much better? Why are we deemed more worthy? I wish I could move my lips to tell him I agree.

I know he doesn't have time like we do. A little bit of his life is sacrificed every time he wakes up to continue ours. He watches over us with the black parasite of loneliness eating away at his heart.

I can see it shining through his blue eyes every time he wipes the frost away from my window. That bitter blackness consuming him. Making him consider breaking the careful protocol that balances us all between life and death.

I don't blame him. And sometimes I want him to break it. To end this struggle of our species. This unnatural prolonging of life that's akin to one last desperate gasp for air.

Just like that last desperate glimpse of him I hold onto when the warning alarm sounds. An unnatural anchor I cling to until he returns. He is the only air I have. I breathe him with every molecule of my being. He fills me up and sustains me. He is my air.

I fear by the time I am thawed he will be so old and withered he'll be too deaf to hear my sincere thank you. The only thanks he'll ever probably receive for saving mankind. That fear echoes inside me eternally. Only to be quieted when I see him peering in at me. Hardly aged each time.

He stays longer than usual this time. The lines around his baggy eyes deepening as his brow creases with indecision. I can see a war being waged behind the irises studying me. I use everything I have. Every bit of will and might. Everything that makes the human spirit uncrushable.

He's just about to turn away when I accomplish it. My eyes burst open. I am seeing him fully for the first time. And I see his dilemma is solved. His mind is made up as he jumps back. I can see his fright mixing with his decision.

He comes closer like a timid fawn. Bracing himself for the shock of my next movement. How I ache to move. The simple shifting of my eyelids has given me a taste and I want more. I hope that my silent plea comes across as I watch his face disappear from my frosty window.

I hear voices. They are coming closer. Getting louder. One is afraid of repercussions. One is angry enough with his lot in life not to care. They argue. They fight. He reaches the key pad that controls my existence. I hear faint beeping. I feel…warmth?

The glass case to my icy prison is opening. I see him unhindered for the first time. I hear him clear as a bell without the translucent barrier muffling his gravely soothing voice.

"We shouldn't even still be out of cryo. You've no idea what you have done." the other says.

"I don't care anymore, I want her." he says.

I gasp for my first breath of real air in years.

* * *

"Rigging the system for a little extra time outside the box is one thing. But this…you have to put her back. You can't do this." the darker man demanded as his disapproving eyes flickered to the paused numbers up above.

Harsh breathing punctured the silence while one man glared at the other. Their standoff held firm as feeling is slowly restored to nearby limbs.

"I'm sick of this shit Catwright! It's been two hundred and twelve years. The air isn't any better than it was on the first day and it's never going to be. You really gonna make me wait nine-hundred years till we're eighty, just so I can look out that window and tell you I told you so?"

The long haired man reached forward to disconnect tubes and remove needles from the woman's flesh. Violently shaking off the hand that tried to pull him back by his shoulder. A remorseful miserable sigh flared from his nostrils after a few seconds.

"I wanna.. live. I just…want a family again." he gruffly confessed, his deep voice wavering with emotion on the last word.

A touch of guilt reached Catwright's heart at the desperation shining in those cobalt eyes, making him close his dark ones in frustration. Though their skin tones were a stark opposite he'd grown to love the man in front of him like a brother. An impatient irrational pain in his ass younger brother.

"The silo doesn't have enough power to support us and the tanks, even without her increasing the air intake. We'll be dead in a matter of months." he reasoned, trying to persuade him with technical logic, watching hopefully as his friend paused in removing electrode patches from the girl's steadily rising and falling chest.

It was refreshing to see a look of determination taking hold on the face in front of him. His partner had been without any kind of hope for so long it was a blessing. Even if it made his stance on the matter even harder to fight for.

"I hacked the system didn't I? Rigged the suits to filter air so we don't have to use tanks didn't I?" he argued, his confidence weakening a little as he offered his final point. "I'll figure something out.."

"How about food? We only have enough freeze dried meals to eat every third thaw. If we don't run out of air first we'll starve eventually." he pointed out, raising his obsidian brows with question.

"There's bags of soil, grow lights, and packs of seeds in one of the back rooms. We'll grow our own food." he countered, making a smart-alec face before turning away to watch the woman's progress.

Her eyes were unblinking. Glued to his every movement while she awaited the return of her muscle functions.

"What we were meant to do here is the only hope humanity has left. If we abandon it, we abandon everything our species ever did or created. We need to have hope and follow the orders we wer-"

The darker man's calm persuasion was interrupted by a body crashing into his. Knocking him over. Straddling him. Bruised and bloodied fists clutched the lapels of his jumpsuit. An enraged face neared his as its owner growled out his final argument.

"What don't you get? I don't give a fuck anymore! There is no hope!" he bellowed in his face, ignoring the sad look of disappointment flashing across the ebony features beneath him.

He breathed hard. His anger cooled with every breath as he watched the defeated man underneath him. A hacking cough from up above reminded him of the life awaiting him with his new decision.

"I don't care about orders or protocol anymore. Alota things don't add up about this place as it is. I'm done wasting my life as the president's janitor. I quit." he quietly declared, rising up off his friend and offering him a hand up.

Their hands clasped together. They stood there staring at each other. One waiting for another argument. Excitement prickling him every time a sound came from the tank beside them. The other trying to figure out a way to maintain the order needed for survival. The solution that came to mind made his eyes sting and his heart hurt. The slow raspy sound of long unused vocal cords stole their attention away from each other.

"Did…did you..say..two-hundred..and twelve..years?"


End file.
